


Fair Game

by glespa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 02:21:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20382094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glespa/pseuds/glespa
Summary: "Snape was always easier to irritate at the beginning of school - he came back as if his summer had been shit, and Sirius took great pleasure in reminding him of it."In true Marauder fashion, Sirius pulls a prank on Snape that is unsurprising to anyone. But the revelations that follow shake Sirius harder than he expected.





	Fair Game

If there was one rule that Sirius Black lived by, it was to never, ever be apologetic for anything. Well, no, the first rule was to do everything in his power to piss off his mother. But this was definitely a close second. 

This rule cost him dozens of girlfriends, and a couple of times with the rest of the Marauders, but eventually Remus had gained the patience to wait out the fight until everything was back to normal. James liked to hex and punch, and it had gotten them both sent to the hospital, but it was over much quicker. 

And the one thing he was never apologetic for was Severus Snape. The Slytherin had lost his only friend just last year, and the first few months of school was Sirius’ favorite time to torment him. 

Snape was always easier to irritate at the beginning of school - he came back as if his summer had been shit, and Sirius took great pleasure in reminding him of it. 

Though James had greatly fallen back on making Snape’s life miserable (he had recently scored a date with Lily), he would still lie in the dormitory with Sirius and make up pranks to pull on the Slytherin, while Peter and Remus looked on. 

“Mr.Snape?” Sirius looked up from his reverie eagerly as Mcgonagall stopped in front of the Slytherin’s desk. 

Snape was rummaging furiously through his rucksack, and it was not until his third time checking the same flap that Mcgonagall cleared her throat impatiently. “Mr.Snape, if you do not have your project papers then please do not waste my time - “

“I do!” interrupted Snape, the tinge of panic in his voice sending a shiver of glee down Sirius’ spine. “I swear, Professor, I finished it weeks ago and I checked my bag just last night -”

The Slytherin froze in his speech, and slowly raised his head to look at Sirius. “You,” he seethed, rising to his feet. “Professor, Black stole my papers - “

“ _ Me?” _ Sirius said, rising to his feet as well in equal fury, insides dancing. “Look, Snape, if you haven’t done the project then just tell the professor, there’s no need for accusations - “

“YOU WERE - “ Snape turned to Mcgonagall, but her mouth was set in a thin line. 

“Do you have your papers, Snape?” 

Hair dangling down the sides of his pale face, Snape breathed heavily for several moments. “...no, Professor.”

“Then you will just have to receive a zero for the grade. I will accept a late project if you hand it in to me by tomorrow, but know that the highest grade you will be receiving is an Acceptable.” 

“Tomorrow - “ Snape opened and closed his mouth several times. “Professor, my notes, they’re in the folder with my project...it’ll take me a  _ week _ at least to redo it…”

“If you finish it on Friday, Mister Snape,” said Mcgonagall sharply. “Then you might as well not hand it in at all. If you had been honest with me, I might have given you a few extra days. As of now, you have one.”

The class snickered, and Sirius leaned back in his chair to high five James. Beside him, Remus peered at Sirius worriedly. 

“Sirius, I really think you should give his project back,” said Remus quietly. “This is worth a huge part of our grade - Snape could fail.”

“Ah, it’s just summer work, Moony,” said James, slinging an arm around Sirius, who pretended to swoon. 

Remus’s mouth tightened. “Yes, but Mcgonagall explicitly said this was extra important since we have more to cover this year. He’ll have to work twice as hard to pass now.”

“Looks like it,” said Sirius blissfully. 

The werewolf glanced at Snape before returning to his work, sighing beneath his breath.

o-o

“I won’t! You can’t make me!”

Remus turned around exasperatedly. “Sirius, it’s not that bad! Just go in there, ask for - “

“ _ Ask! _ Now you’re saying I’ll have to talk to Pince? Be seen in the library, chatting up the librarian? Ask her to share some tea then, shall I?”

Throwing his hands up in the air, Remus turned back around and dipped his quill in his pot. “I don’t know what to say, Padfoot - if you want to do your homework, you’ll need to go to the library. I handed mine in early and returned the book yesterday.”

Sirius moaned and leaned his head against one of the pillars of the bedpost. He looked up. “I know! I’ll go at night and take it! James, can I borrow your cloak?”

James hummed in response, nodding absentmindedly as he fixedly tied a rose to a scroll of parchment. He took the wand from his mouth and transfigured the ribbon to a lilac color.

“You’re all boring, you know that?” said Sirius in disbelief. “Look at what we’ve come to!  _ Peter? _ ”

He looked desperately to the remaining Marauder, but Peter shrugged, with his mouth full of chocolate frog. “Sorry, mate.”

Spluttering, Sirius looked repeatedly between the three of them. “We used to be the  _ Marauders _ ,” he muttered, before turning away. 

He headed downstairs and played Exploding Snap with Frank until he fell asleep on the couch, waking up with his face crushed into the cushion. By the time he woke up, it was 3 in the morning and Frank was gone.

Quietly, Sirius slipped on James’ cloak upstairs and headed for the library. 

It was cold in the hallways, and Sirius found himself quickening his pace. When he reached the library, he slipped inside and wrapped the cloak around him tighter. 

“Lumos,” he breathed, watching the dim light appear from his wand. Sirius raised it higher and began to search the shelves. 

He found his book relatively quickly, and when he’d tucked it underneath his armpit, Sirius extinguished his light. 

The corner of the library was glowing. 

Curious, the Gryffindor turned the corner and peered around it at the glow. 

It was Snape. 

The boy was hunched over a stack of papers, writing furiously. When he raised his head in the glow of the wand, Sirius could see that there were dark circles on the edge of his eyes. 

Well. This was impressive, to say the least. Even Remus couldn’t pull together a summer’s worth of Transfiguration analysis in a night, but it certainly seemed as if Snape was planning to try. 

His book dug uncomfortably into his ribs, but Sirius couldn’t bring himself to look away. As he watched, Snape pushed up his oversized sleeves to wake himself up, looking as if he were on the brink of exhaustion. 

Something was off - Snape was writing as if his arm was hurting, and it was obviously keeping him from going as fast as he normally did, because he kept grunting in frustration. As the sleeve slipped down once more, so did the fabric on his shoulder, and Sirius barely suppressed a gasp at the mass of bruises present on the pale skin. 

They were hand shaped - familiar to Sirius from his mother’s signature grips - and very, very harsh. Many of them were thumb-sized, but the mere quantity and variety of colors was enough evidence to convince Sirius that this had been going on for most likely the entire summer. 

_ He could just brew a healing potion, _ Sirius thought snidely. But the second voice in his head, which sounded annoyingly like Remus, prodded him right back. 

_ He could,  _ reminded the Remus voice.  _ If you hadn’t taken his potions kit on the last day of school. And he could right now, if you hadn’t stolen his summer project papers. _

Thrown off by this new train of thought, Sirius leaned back against the shelves, remembering the stock of healing potions that had been on the corner of the kit. He had never once felt sorry for Snape. Sure, he’d guessed that Snape’s home life was hardly ideal considering the baggy clothes he often wore, but neither was Sirius’. 

But Sirius’ parents, despite how furious and belittling, had never actually laid a hand on him - or at least, not harsh enough to leave bruises. 

A thud distracted Sirius from his thoughts, and he looked back to see Snape had hit his head from falling asleep. The Slytherin jerked back awake, and Sirius saw a shimmery flicker on his face. 

It was a glamour - not a very noticeable one, but certainly there. And as the boy wavered on the brink of exhaustion, Sirius could see the big marring bruise on his right cheekbone that spread to the bridge of his nose. 

Sirius was clearly not the only one to notice - Snape yanked out his wand and applied another glamour, furiously. It was nowhere up to his usual standards; Snape wasn’t the best charms student, but he consistently received Exceeding Expectations. 

Sirius watched him for several more minutes, lips pinched tightly together. In sluggish, exhaustive motions, Snape dipped his quill in the ink and checked the textbook, eyes skimming through the thin slits that threatened to close. 

“ _ Damn it, _ ” Sirius hissed, backing up from the library. He worked his way up to the Gryffindor Towers silently and retrieved the potions kit. 

It was sitting underneath his bed, where Sirius had left it and promptly forgotten about it last summer. Sirius opened it quietly and examined its contents. 

There were five healing potions, clearly marked in Snape’s handwriting. Next to them lay some potions ingredients, although the jug of slugs had shriveled up and Sirius could tell by the smell alone that the fairy wings had expired. 

Sirius contemplated leaving the kit where it was. After all, Snape had been dealing with this for years; what was one more?

But as soon as the thoughts formed, Sirius regretted it. He leaned against the leg of his dormitory bed, resting his head back. If he closed his eyes he could still feel the Stinging hexes his mother sent after him when he refused to humor his relatives’ remarks about his friends. 

_ Damn it. _

o-o

It was reaching five in the morning by the time Sirius got down to the library once more. He peered around the library corner, pulling James’ cloak tighter around him. 

Snape was asleep on the table; Sirius pulled the hood of the cloak off of his head and approached the Slytherin. 

The work was, as expected, unfinished. But Sirius had to commend Snape for his effort; he’d gone through nearly half of it, although the last two paragraphs were illegible. Snape’s arms were smeared in dark ink, and with the glamour gone they blended in with the set of bruises. 

Quietly, Sirius pulled out the potions kit and set it on the table. He paused for a moment, then pulled out the summer homework he had stolen from Snape. 

_ You’re doing a good thing, _ said Remus in his head.  _ Although it would’ve been better if you hadn’t stolen it in the first place.  _

_ Shut up _ , Sirius thought heatedly. He tucked the papers underneath the ink pot and stared at Snape for several minutes. 

Finally, Sirius pulled the hood back on his head and left. 

o-o

“What’re we pulling on the Slytherins tonight?” hissed Peter eagerly at breakfast, sliding in next to Remus. 

James, still blushing furiously at the kiss Lily had awarded his cheek at the entrance of the Great Hall, shook his head to clear it. “Right then, lads. I was thinking that our stash of Dungbombs is running  _ disappointingly _ high.” 

“What’s in that potions kit you nicked from Snape last year, Sirius?” said Remus grudgingly, plucking a piece of toast. “We could use something from there.”

Sirius glanced towards the Slytherin table, then quickly looked away. Snape was staring at him suspiciously, eyes narrowed over a plateful of eggs and sausages. 

“Hello?” James tossed a spoonful of mashed potatoes at Sirius, who jerked to attention and smeared his cheek on James’ shoulder. “Earth to Padfoot.”

“I - er - tossed it,” lied Sirius. “Nothing important in that old trunk. I think we should push the prank to next week, anyway.”

“Really?” said Peter. “Why?”

“Well,” Sirius said slowly. “We’d have more time to plan. Our first prank against the Slytherins this year can’t just be  _ Dungbombs _ and potions.” 

Whistling appreciatively, James nudged him. “I like where your head’s at. I vote we push, too.” 

Plus, Sirius thought, Snape  _ had _ to be healed by then. And then, it’d be fair game again. It just wouldn’t be fun if the playing field wasn’t even. 

At Transfiguration, Sirius stared determinedly at his doodles from last class as Mcgonagall approached Snape’s table.

“Well, Mister Snape?” the Head of House gazed sternly down at the Slytherin. “Have you got your work?”

“Yes, ma’am,” muttered Snape, pulling out his stack. Mcgonagall stared at the pile in slight surprise, but took it without a word. “I found it.” 

He darted a glance at the Marauder’s corner of the class, but Sirius continued to trace the doodle on his parchment, dipping his quill in the pot of ink at the edge of his desk. 

“Impressive, wouldn’t you say?” said Remus, sitting next to Sirius today. He looked at his best friend speculatively. “That Snape’s got all his work done in a single night.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” snorted Sirius. He got started on a new cartoon hippogriff at the corner of Remus’ parchment. 

“I would say almost suspicious,” pushed Remus, offering Sirius a small smirk. 

“Why, Moony,” said Sirius coolly. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re rambling on about. Now, do be quiet. The lesson’s starting.” 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading. Feel free to leave a comment! 
> 
> \- sam


End file.
